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Hi, I'm new...

I'm glad this place exists, I don't have a dream to share off-hand, as the most recent I remember involves Ben Affleck, J Lo, and a flea market (seriously! and I'm NOT a fan.) But what a wonderful place for us to share. My mother always said that every morning I'd come down to breakfast and had to share my dreams. I think it bored her, but I find them so fascinating, I look forward to hearing your dreams and sharing some of mine.
At first I don't really notice the setting, it just feels right somehow. In fact I think that's the first thing I notice. Everything feels right, and okay.

I'm in a comfortable chair, sitting across from a petite dark haired lady I feel like I know, even though I can't think of her name, and her face is never really distinct. There's a low glass coffee table in front of me, and a glass of iced tea is sitting on the nearest corner. It's strong and dark, just the way I love it, and the condensation is running down the sides of the glass, pooling at the bottom. But it doesn't feel very warm. Maybe the tea is very cold.

The petite dark haired lady is talking to me, laughing quietly at whatever story she's telling me, while I look out the open door behind her. The white sandy beach and lapis water seem inviting, but in a distant sort of way. It reminds me of the more golden beaches and grey-green-blue water I'm more familiar with, but this seems somehow more pure and simple.

The colors and the light are bright, and comfortable. Everything seems clear and clean.

It seems as though I've heard every word the lady is telling me, but it's just only now that I really pay attention. She's telling me amusing stories of the mishaps that her children endured in daycare. Nothing seriouse, really just the typical childish tragedies, made bittersweet by her absence.

And she tells me that I will know when I've found the best situation for my son, daycare wise. I should trust my instincts and not settle for less than I think he deserves. I protest, telling her that there is more to the decision than just what I think he deserves. There's cost, and location, and availability. She waves her hand, as if brushing aside such minor considerations, and smiles at me. She says, just do what you know is right, what seems right without having to think about it. You think too much, you know. You always have. Just relax, let things happen. You're pushing too hard.

Then the alarm went off. For just a few moments, that sense of everything is okay lingered, then reality started creeping in around the edges of my mind.

A Dream to Aid the Weary

I found myself in a beautiful stone courtyard; stone ground and stone walls. There was a single path leading into this small enclosure, I remember seeing beautiful green stretching as far as the eye could see interrupted only by a stone path leading to this entrance. There were some beautiful trees surrounding the courtyard's walls, but only partially in view as the walls obstructed most viewing. I was sitting lotus position on a firm pillow; I was sitting in a circle with four other men. They were of no discernible race; it was unimportant, whether they were asian or white; black or tan. My perspective in this dream seemed to be a mix of first person and third-person bird's eye. I saw through my eyes as well as beyond them.

None of us made eye contact.

The men proceeded to narrate to me that I was no more or less significant than they; and that none of us were more or less significant than anyone else. At length, the proceeded to discuss this fact -- not only of people but also of plants and of animals; of objects and of ideas. Everything is the same; everything is one; yet, everything may seem different; everything may seem separate.

The conversation went on much like this, as they attempted to expand my understanding beyond what is normal understanding. To open my eyes that I might see through a new view; one that is not dualistic; one that is not based on averages of good and bad; more or less; give or take. Rather to perceive all things; rather than perceive all things as things; to be free of limitation.

They never made eye contact with me; never looked at me, yet never looked away. I was neither objectified nor nullified; nor were any of them. And their actions seemed an important validation of their words.


This dream came at a difficult time, some months ago, following a complete break down that left me agoraphobic and suffering from anxiety disorder and depression. And while I longed for the peace they'd shown me and that I'd experienced in that dream, I was unable to find it. Perhaps because I was objectifying it and searching for it. Perhaps simply because I did not truly understand it and was unable to perceive the means in which to find the way . . .

The difficult part about this dream was that it did not feel like a dream. I did not wake up feeling as though I'd dreamt something. Rather, I woke up feeling as though I'd remembered it. It was as if it was an event that had happened and I'd only just remembered it. It's quite a peculiar feeling; feeling as though you're remembering something you don't remember having happened.

In any case, some weeks later -- perhaps a month, I hit rock bottom. I fell into depths of depression well beyond anything I'd ever known. It was as though I'd slipped into an infinitely dark and infinitely deep chasm and could neither rise from it nor fall beneath it. It was absolute hopelessness within and without. I felt as though I'd reached the end . . . and, in a sense I suppose I did. It was upon falling into this darkness that could neither be risen above nor fallen below that understanding came. I ceased to perceive and cling to those notions of top and bottom; rising and falling; I began to understand a path to peace. Not understanding in the sense of knowledge but in the sense of being. I did not know the path, but knew that it was there; and somehow found that, without seeing it, I could walk it. I spent time in meditation and within a week my mind had improved; it was again in sync with itself. By the end of that week, it had stabilized enough that I was able to not only leave the house but get on the bus, go into the city, and pick up a few books. I picked up one, in particular, on Zen Buddhism and found within its texts much of what I had been shown in the dream by those four men: This fact amazed me; I still am unable to put a label on what happened, how it happened.

In any case, the dream came to me just in the nick of time, and I can only speculate the worst as to what would have become of me had it not manifest.

Only a few months later, I'm now doing quite well. I've managed to get and sustain a job, venture out in public without problem, and have become a much more peaceful and jovial person. I cannot remember a time when I was so at peace with myself . . .

All from a dream of dialogue with four men wiser than I . . .

Are my dreams telling me something??

Lately all my dreams have a very repetive feel to them. I either dream (as in my last posting here) that I'm walking in a circle around a table, or that I'm endlessly painting my nails, or doing some small task over and over again. This is different enought from my normal dream patterns that I wonder if I should be paying attention here.

I think normally such dreams signify that you are stuck in a rut. But I don't feel frustrated in these dreams. Instead I find the mindless repetition very soothing. And I'm certainly not stuck in a rut. I have too many plans, too many different things to do. So maybe my dreams are providing an source of stability and calm in my everchanging world?? Or maybe they are signifying that maybe I need to stabilize my routine a little?? Anyone have any thoughts?? Anyone? Is anyone even out there??

The table

Hi, since I created this community, I should probably go ahead and do the first posting, hmm?

Last night I had a dream that was unusual for me. All I dreamt about was a table. It was square, slightly lower than usual, fairly large, and made of honey finished oak. You could see the grain of the wood very clearly. In my dream, I kept walking around and around it, trailing my hand along the edge of the table. The finish felt so smooth and cool beneath my fingertips, and it was very soothing.

That's a strange dream for me because most of my dreams are fairly complex, involving a fair number of people, and often a rather lenghty plot.

This is one of those dreams that left me waking up and thinking... there's got to be a deeper meaning here, because really, a table???


The Inner Mind

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October 2006


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